Arcadia
by nikolai60
Summary: A view through the eyes of a pilot at the Battle for Arcadia


It's just another lazy day in the verse. You're cruising a 325 riding shotgun for a Lancer hauling rocks for a small op. It's not the best pay, but it's easy money while you sit back and watch a few games.

A light on the scan tells you someone thinks some rocks are actually worth the risk and you straighten up and start the scans. A Cutlass with a Mustang and Aurora on the flanks. Not exactly big game, and you're surprised they'd start a fight over so little in a system this busy. But another notch or two in your belt won't hurt, and the kill bonus will buy that new fuel injector with cash to spare.

You roll to engage, the Lancer already spamming HE downrange while calling for backup. The way a few stray shots got those three scattering tells you they're not exactly big game, and you settle in behind the Aurora to get your reward. Just as his chassis flares and scatters to spacedust, you hear the distinctive crack of several ships coming out of quantum, and loop around to see a squadron of Buccaneers jumping in on you guns blazing.

As you lock one up you try to figure out why pirates would bother sending backup to a small catch like this, but you're thankful as a flight of security Avengers streak in guns blazing to deal with the threat. Just as you're thinking you can breathe easy with a generous bonus, two Cats with full Cutlass and Buccaneer escorts jump in, opening their doors and dumping Flys into the air.

What is going on?!

More avengers and several other pilots also join the fray, and your friend in the Lancer has used the mess to burn away to safety as the furball just continues to grow. Security Bounty offers start pinging the local channels, drawing in more pilots looking to make a quick cred, and furious pirates dot the stars, no doubt coming to their guildmates rescue.

The stars are an all-out brawl, even a patrol of Navy Hornets have showed up to check what's going on. Bolts and bullets fly in all directions, as missiles streak by seeking targets. And targets there are. You can hardly pull the trigger without hitting someone, making it difficult for you to ensure you're hitting pirates and not friendlies. Speaking of which, the Lancer's back, empty cargo and kitted for war.

And war it is.

There must be well over a hundred ships filling the sky, not counting the dead, and more coming in by the minute. There's even a pair of Idris's playing carrier support for friendlies.

Then your heart stops.

A massive black and red Javelin jumps in, its main battery swatting security forces out of the sky.

It's not a brawl, it's a disaster.

Somehow a major pirate guild has gotten involved, and they've just committed everything they've got to the fight. Why is beyond you, maybe it's an excuse to wreck some havoc. Maybe they think they can get a huge haul out of this mess. Heck, for all you know, they're going for a territory grab. Whatever it is, you're in trouble, out of missiles, and you're neutron gun is dangerously low on ammo.

You roll for the nearest Idris, begging for a reload. It doesn't come.

Just as you move to start your approach a second Javelin jumps in and blasts it to pieces. There's now two pirate guilds committed to the fight.

Things are about to become a turkey shoot, there's no way even the combined security and pilot forces can stand against that many pirates, and you can see the forward waves turning back to regroup at the remaining Idris, for however long the crippled ship will last.

You can see her coming about, her remaining engines straining to push her out of the way of the coming storm.

Just as it looks like your last capital is going to meet her end though, the fight escalates again.

A massive swarm of fighters, painted in Imperial colors, storms out of quantum, followed by their Bengal home. Her doors are already open, spewing even more fighters into the fray, and you breathe an easy sigh of relief.

The Navy has arrived.

She's a welcome sight if there ever was one, the pride of the empire coming to the rescue of a very desperate fight. As you buzz the Idris, you can see her bridge crew saluting and cheering as their saviors storm into the center of the pirate formation, all guns blazing creating a cloud of death around the massive carrier.

Gunning the burner and rolling around to join the rallying survivors, your smile falls as the impossible happens.

More pirate Javelins start jumping in.

It seems as if every pirate guild in range has committed their full force to the fight, and even a Bengal carrier can't stand against such odds.

A voice crackles across the channels, "Fall back and evacuate the colonies, we'll hold them off." It's a heartbreaking message. Not even with every ship in system can you possibly evacuate every station and city in Arcadia. This isn't a frontier backwater, Arcadia is highly populated, a center of commerce and industry. There's no getting everyone out.

In spite of the impossibility of the order, you head for the planet, looking over your shoulder at the carrier, desperate for some sign it stands a chance. The fleet is following suit. Single fighters are either running interference for those that break through or jumping out while they can, everything from Connies to the Merchantmen are bolting for the planet to save who they can. You resign yourself to try to scrounge what ammo you can before joining those still standing to fight, head hanging low as you streak for the nearest Astro.

Closing your eyes you pound your fist against the console in frustration. You can barely remember how this started in the hours of turn and burn dogfighting. Now all you can think about is how hard everyone fought, how many had gone down in flames, only for things to continue to escalate, getting grimmer each time. Your desperately hold onto the knowledge that you actions were buying time for the evacuation, and that whoever comes after you will benefit from your actions, maybe even participate in retaking the system.

It's a cold comfort.

As alerts ping on your console you divert to see what's happening in the fight, just in time to see the grand carrier in flames, flank speed ahead, and ram one of the destroyers. The explosion cripples the three nearest Javelins, and vaporizes the cloud of fighters surrounding them. You thank God for small mercies, full power to your forward shield, and steel yourself, there will be no time to reload, your two Omni's will have to do.

Just as you're looking side to side to see what surviving ships are turning with you, a voice crackles over the comm.

It's an impossible voice, for an impossible situation.

"This is Admiral Knight of Battlefleet Orion, CLEAR THE JUMP POINT!"

Your exhausted brain struggles to make sense of the message. Orion is a Vanduul hunting fleet, they should be at the front. Was it really possible the fleet had pulled a one eighty and somehow made it back to Arcadia?

As if to answer the question, a series of cracks, fast as machinegun fire, rip through the stars. Long range fighters and bombers storm forward, a wall of weapons fire in front of them. Even as you attempt to dive out of the way more ships pour forth. Vetts, frigs, even more carriers. There's over a dozen Bengals all dumping fighters into space in the seconds it takes you to come about. You see the space distort above you, and you nearly cry at the sight.

The Orion herself, a Retribution Class Battleship.

It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You raise your hand to shield against the blinding light of her main battery opening up, each volley no doubt melting through more ships.

The eternal fight is finally over. And you've somehow, miraculously, survived. You howl with laughter at the insanity of it all.

All over a few worthless tons of feldspar.


End file.
